Invasion of the Yoshis
by Arathorn73
Summary: When an alien species invades under pretense of help, one hundred brave champions must rise to the occasion and save humanity.
1. Chapter 1 - Yoshi Arrives

_A/N: Random story idea that came from a Twitch chat. IMO, Twitch personalities are as much roles people play as characters in movies or in TV shows._

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The world watched in anticipation as the large, metallic door of the rounded, bulbous ship slowly slid up. Ever since astronomers had spotted the strange object approaching Earth, speculation had run wild. Was it an asteroid on a collision course? An alien probe? Pure chance or guided action? Countless articles had been written proposing and debunking the idea of randomness in its design.

Twelve hours earlier, when the large object had changed course, decelerated, and gone into orbit around Earth, speculation about the nature of the device ceased. It was clearly guided and piloted. The speculation shifted to the nature of the entities inside what could only be a spaceship. Tensions had increased. Armies were mobilised but the technology on display was, frankly, so far superior to anything humankind had developed that military action was considered futile. Everyone hoped and prayed that whatever came out - be it sentient, robotic, or other - would be peaceful.

And, now, every eye on the planet was glued to a screen showing the scene in Kyoto, Japan, where the landing vessel, dispatched mere moments after orbit had been achieved, was now opening. Breathless commentators in hundreds of languages tried to capture the majesty of the event, some more successfully than others.

Many themes were common - the definitive answer to whether humans were alone in the world, fear about the prospect of invasion, probable communication issues, and speculation as the appearance of the aliens. Some were unique to the speaker - prospective worship of the aliens, possible reasons for the selection of Kyoto, advice on how to hide, planned celebrations, and nearly every other conceivable idea.

As the door slowly eased upwards, camera operators jockeyed for position. The first glimpse was of what looked for all the world to be two orange shoes with yellow soles. Commentators who had done their homework spoke semi-knowledgeably about convergent evolution and how bilateral symmetry must have some evolutionary advantage. Others took it as a sign that the visitors were time-traveling humans, come back to prevent some pending imminent calamity.

With agonizing slowless, the door continued to inch upward. Above the shoes, flesh started to appear - bright green, smooth, unnatural flesh which somehow emanated the essence of being natural and not artificial. Two green legs protruded from those orange shoes.

Mere seconds later, a white belly began to appear, sagging between the two stationary legs. The rest of the alien was soon revealed - it appeared to be reptilian in nature, with a stubby tail, two arms ending in three-fingered hands and an opposable thumbs, a large bulbous nose, and three spines running down from the back of its head across its short neck and a little ways down its back (original witnesses disagreed on the color with some saying orange and some red, but later Yoshis in public all had red spines). Its face was somewhat hidden behind that large green nose, but two soulless eyes - black pupils in pure white eyes looked out impassively. On its flat back was a red shell that looked for all the world to wrap around its body like a saddle. It had a smooth concave top.

Fusajiro Miyamoto, Prime Minister of Japan, stepped forward tentatively. He bowed and, leaning over gently to reach the same height as the alien (later calculated to be 155 cm), formally welcomed it to Earth. "Konnichi-wa!" Quick worldwide negotiation had agreed that the leader of the country where the aliens landed would be responsible for initial diplomacy. A horde of linguistic specialists were nearby, ready to assist in whatever way they could. Every language, from Esperanto to ancient Latin, had an expert present.

Behind the alien, the door shut quickly. But not quickly enough to prevent cameras from capturing images of countless green-and-white checked ovals. Very few could identify their purpose.

The alien regarded Miyamoto impassively for a moment, before lightning-quick, a long red tongue shot out of its mouth, unfurling as it went, stopping inches away from the frightened man. A written note fluttered out and Miyamoto caught it without thinking. It contained words that every viewer saw in his or her native language. In English, the eight words were, "I am Yoshi. I am here to help."

* * *

Everything went pretty well for the first few weeks, even months. Experimentation showed that a Yoshi (for individual Yoshis would seemingly appear when needed simultaneously around the globe) could carry incredible loads in its mouth, would let a single human ride it, was immune to many sharp objects, and never seemed to tire. Yoshi did seem shy or nervous around other Yoshis, though.

Scientists attempted to experiment on a Yoshi - to determine what its shoes or skin or shells were made of, whether it was alive, and a host of other things. Every experiment ended before it even truly began. No action other than riding or pushing a Yoshi ever actually occurred. The Yoshi would simply disappear, seeming to instantly wink out of existence, in a way that was impossible to understand, let alone to replicate. The more superstitious claimed it was magic, but the old saying of sufficiently advanced technology being indistinguishable from magic was a more likely explanation.

Some oddities were detected. Occasionally, reports would surface of a Yoshi in a color other than green (mostly unsubstantiated but prevalent). Flying Yoshis were reported, too but more rarely. The most interesting anomaly was on the initial note. While the message on the front was clear and changed language based on the viewer, the back appeared to be a summons to court for committing tax fraud - a summon specifically indicating Yoshi.

Despite the tax concerns, human society quickly adapted to take advantage of the new, seemingly-limitless resource. Certain professions were hit the hardest, but the economic advantages of using a Yoshi were impossible to ignore. Everything seemed ideal, for a period of time. As days passed, though, rumors began to swirl about a dark side to the aliens. No more than two were ever in the same vicinity at the same time, causing issues in metropolis areas. More sinister were the accusations that Yoshi was dangerous, a threat to human life. Most ignore such stories, but they grew in frequency and intensity, such that investigation was required.

The first confirmed Yoshi-related death occurred in Manitoba, Canada, where a Yoshi carried its rider into a swiftly-moving river, where she promptly drowned. That death opened a floodgate of related incidents, where Yoshi was responsible for human deaths. It was never direct but it was a growing problem. In weeks, Yoshi overtook road accidents as the #1 injury-related cause of death. Days later, Yoshi passed dementia. With frightening speed, Yoshi was the leading cause of death worldwide.

At about the same time, the alien ship, which had frustrated all attempts to penetrate or analyze, first acted since its door had closed months earlier. A large portal opened in the side of the ship, below a sign that said "Send 100 to Attempt to Remove Yoshi" in the viewer's native language. A quick international coalition decided to send in 100 random individuals from around the world. 47 came out after the first day, reporting giant turtles, platforms, moving mushrooms, and other oddities - a series of 8 trials that they successfully completed. The news ran on every outlet worldwide, with a cautionary note of hope that maybe the bloodshed would cease. Those 47 did not voluntary return through the portal, but they all disappeared the next morning at precisely 8:00 a.m. Kyoto time and none returned. Even more deaths directly attributable to the aliens, though by this point, those 100 were mere grains of sand in the Sahara.

Thus it was, that despite the obvious danger, the next day another 100 volunteers and voluntolds entered the ship - a desperate attempt to stem the tide of Yoshi-related deaths. This group fared better, having 74 survive the first day. The second day, 40 emerged, describing giant dinosaurs, huge fire-breathing plants, pipes, and death at every turn. But instead of only 8 challenges, it was 16. Hopes faded the next day, when they again disappeared at 8:00 a.m. and none returned.

At this time, the pattern was clear. A call went out for the most knowledgeable, the most skilled, the truly elite, to come and face the threat. While those mustered, another group of 100 entered and failed. Then a fourth group, desperate for intelligence. None had any survive even the second day, and no one knew how many days would be required.

The fifth group, though, was handpicked. Led by their two great generals, Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear, an elite team of 100 gathered. All the legends of the past were present - Kronicsauce, Thabeast, Enviosity, Patty, Trihex, and more. The elite of the current generation - Ryukahr, Carlsagan42, Aurateur, Failstream, Jaku and compatriots made up the bulk of the 100. It was truly the elitest of the elites. This is their story.

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 _Always want to hear what people think - registered or not - reviews are lifeblood._


	2. Chapter 2 - Not as Easy as it seems

Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear were considered the most accomplished Yoshi-killers on the planet. As such, they were granted first access into the Yoshi spaceship and were acknowledged co-captains, in charge of the entire operation. The transition from the comfortable familiarity of Earth to the alien atmosphere beyond the portal was striking. They could feel their bodies transform, growing stronger, stockier, less complicated. Grandpoobear regrew actual legs, his prosthetics being seamlessly replaced by flesh, muscle, and bone.

Behind them crowded the remainder of the elite 100. Syun_n's legendary calm shattered as he exclaimed, "It's just like a Mario level!"

Indeed, each member could see the blocky outline of a path, with blocks overhead, some brown, some glowing with a yellow question mark. Each individual was alone, but they all were experiencing the same events and could easily communicate, almost like a collective consciousness. Walking mushrooms about two feet tall started ambling toward each of them. It wasn't even as fast as a walk, but they were coming closer and looked dangerous.

Every member of the Elite Hundred had the same idea. They needed to clear the level. But they had no controller. Chucknorris was the first to literally jump. He gasped in surprise as he soared to nearly three times his height. He wobbled in the air and looked like he might fall over, but his feet remained below him, and he landed on them, at bone-crushing speed. Fortunately, he wasn't injured or even physically staggered. Mentally, it was an adjustment, but it caused no physical pain.

Soon, everyone was experimenting with jumping, with running, and simply changing directions. A few goombas were crushed before Jbizzle accidentally made direct contact with one, shortly after the surreal experience had begun. His scream echoed in everyone's mind but no actual sound marred the cheerful music that permeated the area.

About 30 individuals soon felt the icy touch of a goomba and disappeared. The others found a mushroom in the expected location, touched it, and grew significantly larger. The additional size didn't affect their dexterity, their jump height or much else. Each experimented as they moved forward, finding that they could not spin, move side-to-side (only forwards, backwards, up, and down), or even grab anything. They were severely limited but almost exclusively in expected ways.

Tentatively, each continued deeper through the level, finding pipes, bottomless pits, and disappearance around every corner. Intimate familiarity with what was coming warred with the sense of eeriness about the strange world. Acting with the whole body instead of simply the fingers was just wrong, on so many levels. The competing visions of reality, first-person and from-the-side, also required significant adjustment.

More individuals disappeared at various points. But most were able to overcome their fears and frustrations to progress. A few went down a pipe and collected a wealth of golden coins before resurfacing. Others proceeded above ground and discovered turtles nearly as tall as they were. Many of those who avoided the pipe jumped at a specific location, hit what appeared to be air, and then claimed a bouncing giant star, which caused them to start glowing with an aura of complete invincibility. Regardless of the path, 42 individuals climbed (well, leapt up, really) an impossibly-large staircase and were greeted with a welcome sight, a giant flagpole. They grabbed it at various heights and were rewarded with a musical fanfare.

Once every member of the Elite Hundred had either disappeared or touched the flag, they found themselves in a void, bodies somehow irrelevant. A thought filled each of their minds, not so much an embodied voice but knowledge that each simultaneously realized they possessed. _That was only a learning experience. The real challenge begins soon. Select your first champion._

Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear held a hurried, mental conference. Thedragonfeeney "spoke" first. "We don't know what we're in for. We should save our best for later."

Grandpoobear agreed. "Absolutely. But who do we send? I don't want to lose anyone."

"Let's pick someone who at least made it through the trial level. At least they'll have experience." Even without bodies or words, the force of Thedragonfeeney's smile resonated through her communication.

"Agreed. Shall we try Jprimemlg?"

"Who?"

Grandpoobear seemingly knew everyone. "An old-timer who still has some skills. We can maybe learn from him."

The impression of a nod greeted this proposal, so shortly thereafter, Jprimemlg was pulled out of the void. The remaining 99 saw him appear on a blue skull platform, instantly moving him forward at a speed which should have been blinding but wasn't.

Each of the "viewers" could sense Jprimemlg's thoughts and actions, not quite like they were their own but similarly enough that they felt they were learning about the challenge. They all sensed the selected one's fear and trepidation about moving at all.

In a brief moment, he crashed into a wall and started to fall. A winged turtle appeared beneath him and he bounced upwards without any personal effort. A thought rippled through the general consciousness - "Auto level" followed immediately by "Don't move." A moderately wild ride ensued, with springs coming out of cannons, moving platforms, and even a mushroom. It ended with Jprimemlg breaking the end tape while fireworks erupted above him.

A second challenge followed, which required three heart-stopping leaps over bottomless pits, but once again the Elite completed the challenge. The third one, however, had a couple of the goomba mushrooms and a mistimed jump led to the elimination of the first of the Hundred.

A quick consultation sent Goseigen into the fray next. He quickly dispatched with the third trial, acquiring a green mushroom (which didn't cause him to grow) along the way. Afterwards, everyone had the distinct impression of a '+1' associated with him.

The meaning of that became clear in the fifth challenge, when a miscalculation led to an unsurvivable fall. Instead of being eliminated, however, Goseigen got another chance at the same obstacle course, this time without the extra decoration next to his name. Nervousness, surprise, continued lack of familiarity with the situation - they all combined to force another fall at the same location. Then there were 98.

"It seems like we can get extra chances, if we do well." Thedragonfeeney was no fool.

"Agreed." Grandpoobear had had the same thought. "But we don't know what might carry over from day to day. We should be careful."

Again, the impression of a grinning nod followed. "And we don't want to lose someone of high value too early. Let's go with Jbizzle." This idea was meant with an answering grin, with only tiny hints of malevolence.

Jbizzle, however, quickly proved himself up to the fifth challenge. The sixth primarily played music and required little active participation. A seventh trial fell with similar ease. The eighth simply catapulted him directly into the flag that signified the completion of the challenge, with an associated '+1.'

Then, all 98 were in a castle corridor, confronted by a small boy with old eyes and a ridiculous white hat. He spoke the first words any of them had heard in what felt like hours. "You have completed your first set of challenges. But this is insufficient proof of your abilities - you will return tomorrow for a harder challenge."

* * *

Press, government officials, friends, and a host of others were waiting when they were disgorged from the portal a moment later. But, try as they might, none of the Elite Ninety-Eight could tell what they had seen in anything but the grossest generalities. It wasn't that they lacked the words or were shy, some force prevented them from speaking freely.

However, later that evening, in the relative privacy of the hotel lounge, they found themselves able to speak, but only with each other. A passing waitress or bartender would render them mute. In those moments, the sadness of the first few losses hit them. Somehow, the mystical realm beyond the ship's portal muted their emotions, in addition to its other bizarre properties, but the effect faded over time.

Thus, it was only while fighting sadness that Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear talked strategy. Grandpoobear initiated the conversation. "We know there are at least three days. We have to be smart."

"Yes. And use our people when their particular skills are needed. If we have unknown levels, we use generally good players like Ryukahr or Kronicsauce." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Or me."

But she said that last very quietly, and Grandpoobear continued as if he hadn't heard. "Kaizos mean Thabeast or Glitchcat7." He also added, "Or me" to his comment, in his head.

"What about trolls? Who do we use there?"

Grandpoobear grimaced, at both the thought and some phantom pain in his artificial legs. "We just brute-force them, I guess. At least we all learn at the same time."

A sad nod greeted this pronouncement and the two settled into the kind of comfortable silence that only exists between true friends. After several minutes of this quiet introspection, they began their initial plans for the next day.

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 _A/N: Please review - kinda like a youtube comment or twitch chat. Let me know what you think!_


	3. Chapter 3 - Nothing is Normal

The second day started very similarly to the first. The remaining Elite 98 were back in the mystical training level, once again experiencing the disorienting feeling of seeing the world both as it was and as it would look from the side. Emotions were once again suppressed, almost eliminated, in the way of that land. It allowed, no demanded, focus from the individuals inside.

As they had discussed, instead of rushing through the world as they had the previous day, every Elite took time to really familiarize themselves with the strange, yet oddly familiar, ways of the training challenge arena. For several minutes, they each tried to learn as much as possible, to the best of their abilities.

Jumping was perhaps the most weird. Experimentation showed that they could make changes to their jump height in midair, unlike a normal jump which was determined at launch time. Even odder was their ability to control their fall in midair, moving forward and backward via sheer willpower. Jumps ranged in height from a mere 4 meters to nearly 7.5 meters. Running jumps provided even more height. The distance a jump could cover was also astounding - well outside anything even Olympic athletes could accomplish.

Running momentum was also not what they were used to. Instead of slowing down, stopping, and then running in the opposite direction, they would immediately turn and start trying to run but would continue moving in their original direction, essentially backwards, for a period of time. It was highly disorienting, but now they were taking time to adjust to it.

Eight minutes, twenty seconds after they had started experimenting, all 98 winked out of the level and into the void, unsuccessful at completing the experimental challenge, but successful at orienting themselves, much better than the first day. They all felt much better about facing the day's challenges than after the first day.

In the void, the first thing captains Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear noticed was that the '+1' was no longer associated with Jbizzle. The second was a distinct sensation that the day's challenges would be stronger than yesterday's. The third and final clear inclination was that they needed to make a selection.

"Vellhart" they thought in unison, following their previous night's discussion. A solid but potentially expendable asset was perfect for the first challenge of the day.

The first challenge held no surprises and Vellhart beat it easily. However, his collection of green mushrooms did not provide any bonus lives. The second and third levels were no different. After that, however, the challenge seemed to increase, and Vellhart failed to reach the final goal. A few other Elites challenged and failed, so that only 92 champions were left by the 7th challenge.

Shortly thereafter, Purrluna swore mightily as she succumbed to the that challenge, leaving only 91. A different approach was required. They needed a better player - someone to accumulate some bonuses and protect additional fodder lives for later trolly levels.

So Chucknorris was enlisted. One of the more knowledgeable and skillful individuals around, it was expected that he could restore the winning streak, accumulate some extra lives, and complete the rest of the daily challenges. It was a risk but one that the captains had carefully calculated. They had waited until a few bonuses were available to collect before sending him out, however.

It initially paid off. Chucknorris defeated three consecutive challenges, getting up to '+5'. After the initial disappointment (but not surprise) that they faced more than eight challenges, the viewers enjoyed watching, almost feeling, his precise movements, including grabs, spins, and other expected actions not available in the practice mode.

On the tenth level, Chucknorris miscalculated one landing, missing the solid ground and hitting a spike. It seemed innocuous enough, but when he approached the spot again, with only '+4', a jar of red liquid that seemed completely out-of-place was waiting. He ignored it, but he succumbed to the same spike a second time, in a way that didn't match his usual style. After a third falter at the same location, he paused near the jar on his fourth trip.

The entire experience changed, into something unfamiliar to all of them. Chucknorris was able to grab the jar, which was distinctly not a normal item. The liquid inside was too thick to be blood. It smelled (nothing else smelled, but the jar somehow did) like garlic, oregano, and tomatoes. Somehow, Chucknorris was able to taste it - it just seemed natural to bring the jar to his lips, even though that motion was completely unlike any other action in the strange world beyond the ship's portal. The taste was salty but recognizable. Spaghetti sauce.

The discovery of spaghetti was interesting, but it didn't resolve the problem. Even after figuring out what it was, Chucknorris was unable to pass the place where his issues had begun. On his last visit, the spaghetti was still there. He got so nervous seeing it looming there that he didn't even reach the same spot - he succumbed to a koopa a few jumps before the fatal location.

Any hopes that the spaghetti would disappear for a new Elite were dashed as soon as Potatochan789 entered the trial. The innocent-looking jar was still in place. Potatochan789 soon reached it but was unwilling to attempt the next jump. He made a split-second decision and ate the entire jarful, hoping that might eliminate the effect. But it was not to be. And when he struck the spike, spaghetti splattered everywhere, coating surfaces and making the entire area completely impassable.

Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear were forced to use one of the tricks they had up their sleeves - one they'd hoped to not need at all and certainly not this early. Psychrow was sent in. Before long, he had created three additional checkpoints, moved through walls, and completely bypassed the spaghetti-choked area. After he touched the axe but before the next challenge was available, a second dramatically new thing occurred.

 _We will not tolerate cheating. All illegal levels and moves are unacceptable._ Psychrow was unceremoniously ejected from the ship. They all knew he had not been eliminated, not like so many of their friends. But it was clear that Psychrow would not be allowed back into the ship to attempt any additional challenges.

Tensions ran high as Jaku entered, to face the eleventh challenge, but the mysterious spaghetti did not reappear. Without that additional challenge, Jaku was able to power through the final six challenges, only succumbing to one pit in the fourteenth challenge which simply took him from '+6' to '+5'. After 16 challenges, the remaining 88 Elite were again returned to normal Earth, into a confused audience. The premature ejection of Psychrow had the world in a tizzy. Because of the bizarre limitations about speaking, Psychrow had only been able to say a couple things - "Spaghetti" and "They're OK."

Thus, everyone ate a hearty spaghetti dinner in front of TV cameras and frustrated microphone operators before retiring to the hotel for the night.

* * *

Thedragonfeeney and Grandpoobear again convened for discussion before sleeping.

Thedragonfeeney said, "What in the heckin' heck are we going to do if we see spaghetti again tomorrow?"

"When."

"What?"

Grandpoobear looked tiredly back at her. "You said 'if' we see spaghetti again. I'm saying it's **when** we see spaghetti again tomorrow."

"Why are you so sure?"

Grandpoobear sighed, not looking into her eyes. "I'm pretty sure somebody planted that jar. I … saw? Sensed? Felt? ... someone going in just before the spaghetti appeared."

Worry made the characteristic Thedragonfeeney smile disappear. "Are you saying someone planted the spaghetti?"

Slowly, Grandpoobear nodded. "I think so."

Thedragonfeeney rubbed her lower teeth against her upper lip. "Any ideas on what we can do when this heckin' jerk strikes again?"

Grimly, Grandpoobear nodded. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. I have a few ideas." He leaned close and after he explained, Thedragonfeeney was smiling again. It wasn't perfect but at least they had a plan.


End file.
